#* interaction.

❝  you’ve caused quite the ruckus, you know.  ❞  hands slip upon another, folded just beneath her chin. she smiles, knowingly, a brush of reality breaks where she floats just above him. death marked this one quite well.   ❝  whether intentionally or not. ❞

        ‘     eh - heh.      ’

                      he’s blushing.     cheeks flamed right up to his ears at the attention,    while a hand     -     roughened with extensive training     (    the only few things left now of jii-chan    )    -     scratches at the back of his head in an embarrassed sort of gesture.     zenitsu knows he is what’s left to embody the power of lightning and thunder,      but like this,     it’s easy to feel instead like he’s a flower preening at even the slight ray of sun the clouds wanted to give.     that is,    if a flower also comes with two legs that are trembling badly.      

             (      one part of his brain goes :      YOU’RE LUCKY !!!!     YOU’RE SO LUCKY  !!!!!     A BEAUTIFUL GIRL IS ASKING TO FIGHT WITH YOU !!!!!!!    THAT’S AN ACTUAL FEMALE SPECIES WHO IS SPEAKING AND WANTING TO ENGAGE IN AN ACTIVITY THAT REQUIRES A LOT OF PHYSICAL CONTACTS !!!!!!!    AAAAAAAAHHHHH—       while another part goes:      get out.    get out of here right now.     there is no way in absolute hell YOU WILL SURVIVE ANY SORT OF FIGHT WITH A DEMON  !!!!!     THIS IS SCARY,   SCARY,   SO SCARY    !!!!!!     YOU DON’T WANT TO DIEEEEEEE—      )

       ‘       o-o-oh,    yukako-chan,    eh-he -heh.      if you insist.      ’

                         the blush is still present,    but,    as if it wasn’t bad before,    his two pair of legs tremble some more.

she hadn’t meant to approach him so shamelessly, but it seemed @brathaidh had his own gravitational pull, even at this party that was full of guests from other courts. he had been lurking in the corner, as typical of the spymaster, when elain had decided she was far too bored being the wallflower. nesta had tried to get her to join she and feyre on the dancefloor – elain declining, preferring to watch her sisters mend their relationship and radiate joy from where they twirled in the center. but now, she felt that itch to dance, and something in this decision making had lead her to standing in front of azriel, doe eyes wide and hopeful.

her optimism was misplaced.

“you need to stay away from me.” the illyrian murmured, expression stoic and words clipped. the rejection washed over her with the heat of embarrassment, cheeks flaming with a blush unlike the sweeter kind he’d evoked during their moments of flirting weeks prior. she would have turned and left without a word, letting the shame decay her hope, but her ever-observational eyes caught his own gaze flickering to rhysand.

elain paused, mid-step, as she considered the weight in that look.

twisting back to azriel, the tulle of her lavender dress sashaying around her hips, she felt a spark of defiance. anger, too, at the hot and cold way the holder of her heart had been treating her. “you know, i’ve grown quite weary of people telling me what i can and cannot do,” the seer snipped, straightening her shoulders and pointing her chin from its usual downturn. “i think i should give some orders for once, and you—” she offers a hand as her tone accentuates. “—are going to dance with me. now.”